


A Little Problem

by randomcheeses



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Chimera Ed, Gen, Gen Fic, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-07-12
Updated: 2010-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-10 12:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomcheeses/pseuds/randomcheeses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed develops a furry little problem and the higher ups in Amestris' military take an interest. Hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Yes," Colonel Mustang said into the mouthpiece of the phone as he used his shoulder to hold it against his ear while his hands were otherwise engaged sorting various bits of paperwork. "Fullmetal has a little problem. No, a new little problem, not the usual "little problem". No, no. It's nothing too big. Just a small issue really."

"You aren't talking about the cat thing at all, are you?" the office's other occupant said, through gritted teeth as the Colonel put down the phone with a *click*. At first glance, the speaker was a handsome golden-haired boy who was slightly short for his age. On second glance though, one would notice the feline ears poking out from beneath the curtain of thick blond hair and the overly large amount of hair covering his left arm, almost like fur. Not to mention the fact that the fingernails of his left hand looked more like claws.

Mustang's reply was in a tone of total sincerity, unfortunately spoiled by the barely concealed smirk on his face. "Of course I was, Edward. What else would I be talking about? By the way, have you eaten since this happened? Maybe you should have a glass of milk."

Now it was Ed's turn to smirk. "No. Milk gives cats diarrhoea, which means I can't risk drinking it, possibly ever again. Just in case. And, I had a nice, big breakfast - excluding milk - before coming here, for your information."

"Well, good," the Colonel said idly, apparently suddenly absorbed in the copious amount of paperwork cluttering his desk. "Those rats were getting into the office supplies something awful."

"WHAT?" the Fullmetal Alchemist howled, jumping off the office couch and slamming his fists onto the top of the Colonel's desk. "Rats?" he snarled at his superior officer. "You jerk! You- you morally bankrupt Colonel with a God complex! You think this is _funny_? Why I oughta- "

Mustang smirked and took advantage of Ed's proximity to reach out and scratch the boy's cat-like ears.

For a second, Ed let out an involuntary hum. Then he recovered his wits.

###

"I've informed everyone that you were attacked by a rabid chimera, Sir," Hawkeye announced as she strode into Mustang's office later that day.

Mustang, now covered in scratches and several small band-aids, looked more like he had tried to bathe an enraged housecat. He nodded gratefully to the First Lieutenant. "Good. Sometimes, the truth is the best policy. How are FullMetal's burns?"

"Successfully bandaged, Sir," the Lieutenant replied. "Although apparently there was a brief altercation over the administering of painkillers. Luckily, Doctor Knox has promised not to press charges.

"Huh?" Mustang said, a confused expression on his face. Then realisation dawned. "No, don't tell me," he said, holding up a hand as the Lieutenant opened her mouth to explain. "Needles?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "However, once Alphonse arrived, he took the situation well in hand."

"Right," Mustang said. "So where are they now?"

"Al promised to bring Ed straight back here once the doctor was finished checking him over, " Hawkeye replied. "They should be along any minute now."

Sure enough, not a half-a-minute later, Alphonse Elric's heavy armoured tread was audible from the corridor outside the office and soon there came a polite but heavy knock on the office door.

"Good work Alphonse," Hawkeye told the armoured boy as she opened the door to let him in.

"It wasn't that difficult," Al told Hawkeye bashfully. "With cats it's just a matter of rubbing them along the spine. So I figured it might work on Brother too."

Mustang rose from his chair and peered curiously past the blond Lieutenant. He saw that Al was holding a snoring Ed like a baby and gently rubbing the older boy's back.

The Colonel walked over to them and surveyed the slumbering older brother. Ed was mumbling unintelligibly in his sleep and an odd not-quite-hum was coming from his throat. After a second, Mustang realised that the boy was trying to purr. It was not a sound designed to come from a nearly human throat. FullMetal sounded like a car that was having engine trouble.

As the two adults and one soul bound to armour regarded the sleeping teenager, his voice grew a little louder and it was possible to make a few words out. "Mmmm," the sleeping boy murmured. "Kill Colonel . . .get Al's body back . . . no, wait, fix Al first. _Then_ castrate jerk . . .got claws for it now . . . mmyeah."

Mustang turned pale. "Alphonse," he whispered. "I suggest you head to the Library and begin researching how to un-chimera your brother immediately. Who knows what being half cat could do to his health if he remains that way for any length of time?"

"But . . ." Al said disappointedly, guiltily reluctant to give up the only 'cat' he might ever have some hope of keeping.

"It's clearly bad for his mental health," the Colonel insisted, keeping his voice low. "Look at the kinds of things those primal cat instincts are making him come up with!"

"Um . . . No, he's mentioned that before. Minus the part with the claws, I mean."

"Alphonse, library. _Immediately._"

The order came out louder than Mustang intended, waking the slumbering chimera-boy "Don' yell at my bruvver!" Ed said groggily, screwing up his eyes at the Colonel. He swiped at Mustang with his clawed left hand, and then sniffed the air curiously. "You smell funny. Like a wet match." With that, Ed's eyes slid shut and he relaxed back into his brother's arms.

Mustang heard a small choking noise from Hawkeye's direction. "Alphonse!" he ordered. "Take your brother and go to the library. Now!"

"Yes Colonel, sir," Al squeaked, before rushing out the door, holding his brother tight.

Once the Elrics had departed the Colonel turned to his most trusted subordinate. "I do _not_ smell like a wet match."

"Of course not Sir," Hawkeye agreed, straight faced.

Roy Mustang had known Riza Hawkeye a very long time. He folded his arms and carefully regarded her perfectly composed expression. "Hawkeye, I'm going for a coffee. You'd better be finished laughing by the time I get back."

"Yes Sir."

###

At the East City Library (restricted military section) Edward Elric sat at a corner table behind a very large pile of books. "This sucks," he complained to his brother, hunching his shoulders. "I feel like everyone's giving me funny looks."

"I told you not to come, Brother," Al replied, thumbing through a large volume entitled '_Being a Treatise on thee most difficult Art of Chimaera Creation' –Theophrastus Van Hoen._ "With the hood of your coat up like that, you look like a robber."

"Oh come on!" Ed protested. "Who robs libraries?" There was a long, telling pause. "Okay, but it was only once!"

"No it wasn't," Al pointed out. "What about that time in West City Library when you lost your p-"

"That time doesn't count!" Ed said loudly. "I never actually took that book _out _of the library. So it was only once!"

"Brother!" Al said in exasperation. " Shh! We're in a _library._ Calm down!"

"Al, thanks to the that nutbar Mustang sent us after, I'm _half cat!_ And you want me to _calm down?"_

"Yes," his brother replied firmly, reaching out a hand and running it down his Ed's spine before the blond boy could launch into one of his rants.

The height challenged alchemist hummed as a warm shudder ran down his spine. "You . . . cheater. . . Al" he purred, arching slightly.

Al shrugged. "Sometimes you have to do whatever works."

"Fine, fine," Ed agreed, pushing Al's hand back. "Stop before people really start staring." He squirmed away and shoved Al's book towards him, then paused, turned the book upside down and shook it. Another, smaller book fell out. 'Housebreaking Your Cat'? Al! How many times have I told you we can't–" Ed stopped and looked from the book to Al several times. "Al . . . dearest baby brother of mine . . . please tell me this is a joke . . ."

"Umm. . ." Al said, rubbing the back of his armoured neck nervously. "Yes, of course it is Brother! Just kidding!" Then he laughed, weakly.

"Riiight . . . anyway, let's get a move on. I want to have something concrete to tell Colonel Sarcasm when he comes to check up on us."

###

Hours later, Mustang made his way into the library's restricted section and found his subordinate growling - more literally than usual - over a pile of books. "So, no luck, Furmetal?"

"No," Ed said, his voice tinged with exasperation, "it's more that everything I've found is- WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?"

"Fullmetal of course," the Colonel replied innocently. "Hmm. . . I wouldn't have thought getting cat-ears would affect your hearing _adversely_. Are you feeling unwell?"

Ed subsided slightly, scratching at said ears. "Yeah, well you better have," he muttered, before clearing his throat. "I'm fine. Anyway, as I was saying most of the information here is about _creating_ a chimera, not undoing it. And I can't just reverse the process, that would rip me apart."

As the Colonel considered this information, Ed made a choking noise and tried to clear his throat again, before beginning to hack and cough. When he doubled up and continued to cough, Ed missed the look of genuine concern that flickered across his commanding officer's face.

"Are you sure you're okay, Fullmetal?" Mustang asked, resting his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Fine," Ed snapped, shaking Mustang off. "I just have this awful feeling like something's stuck in the back of my throat and it won't come. . ." He broke off and coughed again, this time with a retching sound.

The object hit the nearest book with a resounding splat.

"Is that a . . . hairball?" Mustang said hesitantly, a disgusted look on his face.

"Uh. . ."

"Because, you know Fullmetal, the reason cats get hairballs is-"

"I know!" Ed interrupted, flushing bright red. "It's not a hairball dammit! I use the shower like everyone else!"

"Mm hmm. Then would you care to explain exactly what that _is,_ Edward?

"Well, it's _not _a-"

A disapproving sniff cut through the beginning of Ed's rant like a knife through butter. "I'll thank you to keep it down please gentlemen," said the librarian who had apparently appeared out of nowhere. She was a middle-aged woman, with thin glasses and her grey-streaked hair was tied back in a severe bun. "This _is_ a library, you know. We expect people to control themselves. If you can't be quiet, you'll have to leave."

"But of course Madam," Mustang said quickly, turning on his considerable charm as Ed swallowed nervously and stepped back. "Please excuse Edward's dreadful behaviour. He's under a lot of stress right now."

"Well, all right Colonel," the librarian agreed. "I'll overlook it just this once. But you really should have your son wait for you in the public area. These shelves are supposed to be restricted to military personnel." With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared among the shelves, leaving both Mustang and Ed mouthing incoherently.

"But- but I don't look anything like you!" Ed managed eventually. "Crazy, delusional old biddy!"

The Colonel didn't reply. He was too busy picking up the pieces of his temporarily shattered self-confidence. _I'm not old enough to have a teenage son!_ He thought blankly._ I don't look that old! Do I? Why doesn't this place have any mirrors handy?_

"Uhm. . ." said a voice behind them. It was Al, returning from looking up some more books . . . ones on chimeras, of course, and not cats, of course not cats. He pointed to the mess which Ed had coughed up onto the library book, which the delusional librarian had thankfully failed to notice. "Is that a hairba-"

"No."

"Yes.

"I think they make stuff to treat that," Al said brightly.

"Al, I am not taking cat medicine!" Ed snapped. "Not in a million years!"

"But Brother, you're part cat right now so-"

"I am fine," Ed hissed though gritted, sharper than usual, teeth. "I do not need medicine, cat or otherwise. What I need is to find some way fix this. And some books. That. Are. Helpful!" He scratched his ear again, viciously.

"Hmm. . ." the Colonel mused thoughtfully, now recovered from the shock of the librarian's assumption. "Don't cats get fleas?"

This comment proved to be too much for poor Ed, who had just about reached his boiling point. "I DON'T HAVE FLEAS!" he howled. "I DON'T EAT RATS! I DON'T LIKE TO BE PETTED! I DON'T WASH MY BUTT WITH MY-"

"Brother!" Al said frantically. "Library!"

It was too late. Attracted by the impressive volume of Edward's temper, the Librarian from earlier had reappeared, and was headed their way with a thunderous scowl on her face that couldn't mean anything good. "Gentlemen! I'm going to have to ask you to-" The librarian caught sight of the Most-Definitely-Not-A-Hairball splashed across two pages of a particularly rare text and her mouth snapped shut, with her teeth producing an audible click. "What. Is. That?" she demanded in a furious, controlled whisper after taking a deep breath.

Ed still hadn't quite calmed down and he spun around, ready to yell blue murder, then saw the furious scowl on her face and stopped abruptly, standing their with his mouth open.

"Well?" the librarian asked in a tone which suggested that a horrible fate lay in store for all book damagers. "An explanation, if you please?"

"Oh, we're so sorry," Ed said, his contrite expression belied by the sudden evil glint in his eye. "'_Dad_' had a bit of an accident. He's been ill lately. You understand."

The librarian sniffed and turned the Evil Eye on Mustang whose jaw had dropped at the incredibly blatant lie.

"W-What?" he stammered, half frozen by icy fury in the librarian's gaze. "Fullmetal! You-"

"Sorry Ma'am," Ed interrupted, talking at top speed. "C'mon Al, nothing helpful here, let's go." With that, he dashed away.

"Brother!" Al cried, rushing after the rapidly vanishing Ed. "Wait for me!"

"I assure you, madam," Mustang began once he'd recovered his poise. "I am _not_—" He found himself facing a glare that could melt steel and gave up. "I'll see to it that you receive sufficient funds to restore this."

"Very good, Colonel," the woman agreed, the glare subsiding slightly. "See that you do so as soon as possible."

"Absolutely. Of course," Mustang promised. "After I take them out of Fullmetal's account _and_ his furry hide," he muttered under his breath, hurrying out of the library.

###

Meanwhile, out in the city, Ed was ducking and dodging around pedestrian traffic, easily outpacing Al's bulky armour.

"Brother! Slow down!" Al called.

"I just need an hour free of cat jokes, and I could come up with a fix for this!" Ed murmured to himself as he ducked and weaved around the crowded streets. He scratched at his ears again. "Okay, an hour free of cat jokes and this stupid itch!" He stopped in a doorway and debated where to go, still scratching. "Argh! This—" He paused again. "Maybe the cat had fleas before? Can fleas survive a transmutation?"

"I don't think so Brother," said Al, who had just caught up. "The transmutation charge would probably kill them. . . or you'd be part cat, part flea. . ."

"I AM NOT PART FLEA!" Ed roared.

This proved to be his undoing. A gloved hand grabbed his flesh shoulder from behind and gripped hard.

"I'm delighted to hear it Fullmetal," a voice said, purring evilly right above his ear. "Thanks for letting me know exactly where you were. By the way, are you aware of the penalty for framing a superior officer?"

Ed turned his head, saw the vengeful gleam in his commander's expression and said, very quietly, "_Oh crap."_

"_Exactly, _Fullmetal."

###

If one had happened to enter the men's showers in East HQ that day, one would have seen a very strange sight. The Fullmetal Alchemist being held in a tub of oddly coloured soapy water, by his armoured younger brother, while his commanding officer, the Flame Alchemist, looked on, leaning against the window and yawning intermittently.

Soapy water splashed from side to side of the large tub as Ed once again surged upwards. "Are you trying to drown me?" he demanded.

Al pushed his brother's head back down, careful to keep his nose above the water. "No. But, you have to keep as much of yourself as possible in the flea dip. Otherwise it won't work."

Ed scowled. "This stuff smells awful." He glanced to the side. "And, somehow I doubt this is any kind of _official _punishment."

The Colonel stretched his shoulders briefly and then leaned back against the window sill once more. "Oh, your punishment hasn't even started yet Fullmetal. I'm just keeping you sanitary."

Ed glared at him. "Fine, fine!. Then can you leave, since I'm 'bathing'?"

"And, give you a chance to escape? No way kid. Besides," he said with a smirk. "It's not like you're indecent."

"That's true Brother," Al agreed tentatively. Upon getting hold of Ed and the requisite amount of flea dip, Mustang had opted to throw the boy in the tub complete with his 'infected' clothes.

"That's a cheap excuse, jerk!" Ed growled, before being pushed back under the soapy water by Al.

"Mmm hmm," Mustang replied. "_You_ tell the librarian that _I_ damaged a valuable book with a hairball and you think _I'm_ the jerk? Clearly your chimera state is affecting your brain Fullmetal. You've lost the ability to use logic." He folded his arms and muttered "If you ever had it at all."

Ed's head emerged from under the water, spluttering liquid and obscenities. "For the last time, Colonel Shit, IT WAS NOT A HAIRBALL!"

The door to the showers opened and a familiar cheerful voice said "Wow, Ed, you really threw up a hairball?"

"NO!"

"Hughes?" Mustang said, surprised to see his best friend, "What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Central."

Ed had a sudden flash of depressing foresight vís-a-vís the answer to the Colonel's question and gave a heartfelt groan of despair. He wasn't going to like this, he just knew it.

Hughes grinned his familiar manic grin and whipped out his ever-present camera. "Oh, I just came for this," he said, quickly taking a picture of the chimerified Fullmetal Alchemist, though the only visible parts of Ed above the foam were his hair, cat-ears and what Mustang privately labelled his antenna. "My little Elysia will think he's the cutest thing!" Hughes gushed.

"Do NOT take," Ed choked on some flea dip as he tried to stay underwater, "pictures of this!"

"But Elysia will love your ears!" Hughes enthused. "You might get invited to a tea party!"

Mustang rolled his eyes. "Seriously, Hughes, why are you here?"

Hughes straightened to his full height and his expression became serious. "Exactly how did this happen, Roy?" he asked calmly.

Mustang sighed. "A few days ago a dead chimera washed up in the city's sewer outlets along with a human corpse. That screamed 'illegal transmutation' to the civilian police so the case landed in _my_ lap-"

Hughes nodded in understanding, as he interrupted. "So you sent Ed down to investigate and—"

"He came back like this," Mustang finished, gesturing to the soaking wet cat-eared Ed, who was currently glaring at both of the older men and muttering under his breath.

"Can't you just interrogate the alchemist who did this?" Hughes wanted to know.

"Not unless you have a working knowledge of necromancy," Mustang deadpanned.

"Huh?"

"Um, Lieutenant Colonel," Al interrupted politely. "When we were chasing him after Brother was um . . ." he paused as Ed favoured them all with a vicious glare. "Anyway, he used an array on the wall to try to escape but it wasn't correct and. . . uh. . ."

"Yes?" Hughes said expectantly.

Ed coughed guiltily. "He sort of . . . uh, splattered."

"Oh," said Hughes. " I see. Roy? A word outside?"

Mustang nodded. "Don't even _think _of going anywhere Fullmetal," he warned Ed. "Or you'll be scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush for the next year."

Ed gulped and nodded.

"So," Hughes said quietly, once they'd shut the door behind them. "What are you gonna do Roy?"

Mustang shrugged. "I honestly don't know Hughes. I know nothing about chimeras. The only recent authority on them was Shou Tucker and he's. . ."

"Dead?" Hughes suggested.

"Yes. Thank you. I was working up to that."

"Hey, don't look so worried Roy. Ed and Al are geniuses right? They'll figure something out. We just have to run interference and make sure none of the higher ups get wind of this. Leave it to me, eh?"

Mustang let out a sigh. "Thanks Maes," he said gratefully. Then he smirked. "Guess I'll just have to concentrate on keeping Ed from giving everyone fleas for the foreseeable future."

"Yep. By the way," Hughes said, his tone filled with curiosity. "Hawkeye says you actually scratched Ed's ears. Why the heck did you do that? You must've known he wouldn't take it well. Just look at you. You're a walking advert for band-aids."

"I don't know, he was just _there _Hughes, you know? I just . . ."

"Aha!" Hughes interrupted knowingly. "Your secret love of cute things got the better of you again, didn't it? Just like that time you started singing to Hawkeye's puppy."

"That doesn't count!" Mustang protested. "I was drunk! And we swore never to mention that again!

"Yeah. . . Didn't swear not to show anyone the pictures though. The expression on your face was just _adorable!"_

"Hughes-!"

Loud splashes, swearwords, and the crack of automail against tiles echoed from the showers and Mustang's impending rant halted before it could begin.

"Brother!" they heard Al cry. "You can't go out the window! We're on the third floor!"

Mustang's eyes widened and he ran, shoving the door to the showers open at full speed, with Hughes barely a step behind him.

"FULLMETAL! GET BACK HERE!"


	2. Chapter 2

Despite Mustang and Hughes' best intentions, Edward's escape from the third floor men's room had been a little too public, and the higher echelons of the military had quickly become aware that the Fullmetal Alchemist was now part cat. Also, he'd quickly been taken into custody by men under the command of General Hakuro, who had smugly informed Roy that as the ranking officer in the area, what happened to 'the chimera' was entirely up to him.

Worse, the man had made blunt references to how much the research labs would be delighted to get their hands on a live 'specimen'. It was all Roy could do not to just snap and turn the man into a sad little pile of ash as he watched Ed be led away with half a dozen gun barrels pointed at his head. He'd had to walk away, desperately trying to come up with a plan to get Ed's fate back under his control.

So Roy had, for once, been taken completely by surprise the following day when he'd been ushered into the Fuhrer's presence. For a start, he hadn't known King Bradley was in East City and when he had entered the room, of all the things he had not expected to see, Edward sat at the table, nonchalantly drinking a cup of tea and nibbling on a biscuit was at the top of the list.

The boy seemed none the worse for wear, despite a night spent in East City's main research laboratory, but Roy wasn't convinced. Ed could be stubborn to the point of stupidity when it came to letting people know whether he was injured or not. His eyes raked over the little alchemist's form, searching for any hint of pain or injury.

Ed apparently didn't appreciate the staring and since the Fuhrer was not currently looking in his direction, he was obviously confident enough to make an obscene gesture with his right hand. Roy felt a rush of relief and scowled back at the boy to indicate that such behaviour towards his commanding officer was not acceptable.

"Colonel Mustang," the Fuhrer greeted him genially, turning towards him. "Good of you to come."

"Sir." Roy saluted and shot another surreptitious sideways glance at his cat-eared subordinate.

"General Hakuro informs me that I should let the researchers at the Main Research Lab continue to observe Fullmetal," Bradley announced mildly. "Apparently they are very excited to have the opportunity to examine a living human-animal cross."

Out of the corner of his eye, Roy saw Ed swallow nervously and his fingers started to twitch.

He opened his mouth to protest, but the Fuhrer held up a hand for silence. "It is true that a human chimera should be under the purview of the research department," he said, and Roy's heart sank. "But," the Fuhrer continued, "the chimera in question is Fullmetal here and he has already demonstrated intelligence and alchemic skill that I doubt anyone in the research department could surpass. Also, I understand the process has had little to no damaging effect on his mental state?"

"Yes Sir," Roy said quickly, hope beginning to rise. "Fullmetal's mind is as functional as ever. He is still a valuable State Alchemist and a human being, despite his current state and whatever the research department might say."

"You don't need to convince me of that Mustang," the Fuhrer said with what Roy felt was a slightly worrying smile. "I can understand your reasoning behind wanting to keep it quiet until things could be resolved. Unfortunately that's just not possible now. Fullmetal's rather impressive leap from the third floor has seen to that."

Ed flushed guiltily, but remained silent, a fact that was beginning to worry Roy. Yes, the Fuhrer was in the room, but Fullmetal had never followed protocol before. He was being uncharacteristically quiet.

"So that I can assure everyone of their safety," Bradley continued, "until he can successfully reverse the process, Fullmetal will require a permanent guard both for his own health and wellbeing, and that of the people around him."

Roy kept his face carefully blank, but behind the neutral expression, the wheels of his mind began spinning. It did make sense to have a permanent guard assigned to a human chimera. But this was Fullmetal they were talking about. If he did get out of control he'd easily take down any regular soldier. So the guard had to be someone strong enough to take down Ed. That description didn't fit many people. Roy decide to gamble and carefully said as much to the Fuhrer.

"Ah indeed," King Bradley smiled. "I have thought of the perfect person. And should Fullmetal's mental function decrease, perhaps temporarily due to stress or something of that nature, he will at lest be with someone who he is predisposed to obey."

"Sir?" Roy asked, trying in vain to think of military personnel who fit _that_ description, since the Fuhrer obviously wasn't taking about Alphonse.

"Well, his commanding officer of course," Bradley said with a smile. "He'll have to stay with you until he's back to normal," the Fuhrer clarified. "At all times."

Roy choked. Ed's face turned chalk white.

###

King Bradley smiled smugly at the memory of the confused look on the Flame Alchemist's face. If he had been the man most people thought he was, Fullmetal would've quickly ended up taking a life long vacation in the military's less than reputable laboratories.

However, hypothetically, if one was a homunculus planning to use a particular type of alchemist as a human sacrifice, letting said alchemist get dissected because he'd been turned into a chimera, before even giving him a chance to undo the damage, could be seen as being rather counter-productive. Especially if you had already secretly perfected the art of creating human chimeras anyway.

(The Fuhrer is of course, not a homunculus, and anyone who says otherwise is merely spreading a vile rumour. So anyone intending to keep their head where it is, shut up right now.)

Of course, the research department had grumbled and vainly attempted to insist they were better qualified to know what should be done with 'the chimera', but the Fuhrer had cheerfully pointed out that 'Major Elric, the FullMetal Alchemist' had been serving his country from the age of twelve, whereas at that age most of the research department still hadn't worked out where babies came from. Also, he had glowered at them in an intimidating manner while rather pointedly sharpening his swords. That had put a quick end of that particular discussion.

"Easier to let him fix himself and hold off on handing him to R &amp; D," Wrath insisted as he made his report to Father once he was back in Central. "Also, he and Mustang may not get along, but the Flame Colonel still considers both Elrics a periphery part of his little team. Actually, from what Pride heard the other day, they might be a lot closer than we'd thought. If the researchers in East's Lab harmed the boy and Mustang got wind of it, he'd burst in there fingers snapping. We'd either lose a sacrifice and a potential sacrifice or a lot of useful scientists. Probably both."

Father nodded in agreement and Wrath added "Besides, my wife was concerned for him when she heard the news. He's only fifteen, you know. I'm sure public opinion would be the same. He is the People's Alchemist after all."

_Public opinion my ass, _Envy thought, as he lounged in the corner, watching Wrath finish his report. _It's_ _Rule One of the Amestris Military. Thou Shalt Not Upset Mrs Bradley. I knew there had be a real reason. 'Let's not set off Mustang' couldn't be it. Like it matters if he offs a couple dozen research scientists. Though admittedly it would be a pain to have to go look for another two potential sacrifices. Ah damn, it's so boring around here lately. Maybe we can get Kimbley out of jail soon. He was fun._

###

"You can thank the Fuhrer's wife that the research department isn't studying you right now," Hughes told Ed cheerfully as he ushered the boy through the front door of Mustang's house. The Colonel himself was already inside, setting up the spare bedroom for the teen, seeing as Ed was going to have to stay over until he found some sort of cure for his current condition.

"Mrs. Bradley?" Ed asked, surprised. "What's she got to do with anything?"

"I understand General Hakuro was at a party she was hosting last night," Hughes explained. "He got a little drunk and bragged of his capture of a dangerous half-human chimera. Mrs. Bradley disagreed with his assessment of you and spoke at great length of how terribly a child your age must be suffering and how in your time of need, separating you from your little brother and the commanding officer that was obviously a father-figure to you was terribly cruel. The Fuhrer agreed with her immediately. Bless her bleeding heart."

"Father-figure?" Ed spat in disbelief as Hughes towed him down the hallway towards spare room. "Please tell me you're not talking about Mustang?"

"Well-" Hughes began.

"Cos he's not!" Ed insisted, interrupting him. "I'd rather- uh, he's not! No way, never ever in a million years."

Roy stood in the doorway of the last room on the left, and smirked at the young man. "I'm so hurt Fullmetal," he said holding a hand over his heart. "You wound me. You can put your case down in the corner by the way."

"Go eat shit and die," Ed told him succinctly. But he did as he was told and set the old, battered suitcase down beside a chair. The room was nice enough he supposed, looking around. And it was big enough that Al could stay there at night too. That was good.

Hughes grinned a particularly evil grin. "Selim Bradley visited the library yesterday the same time as you did," he informed Ed. "Apparently was visiting East City with Daddy and he came home talking about how Mr. Edward had called the Flame Alchemist 'Dad' in front of a librarian and wasn't that nice because he heard that Mr. Edward and his brother were orphans and they must be really fond of Colonel Mustang. Oh and the 'old man' must be really fond of them to let Mr. Edward call him Dad. I understand Mrs Bradley thought the story was touching."

Ed began to look like he was seriously considering beating his head against the wall and Roy's smirk had lost its humour and become fixed. His eyes were surveying the room and Hughes suspected his best friend was subconsciously looking for a mirror. If Ed weren't in the room he'd almost certainly be wailing about his age.

"Be right back," Hughes told them, deciding to get out of there before an explosion occurred. "I'm going to go get a sandwich. Don't worry Ed, I'll bring you back something."

"What is wrong with people?" Ed demanded of the air after Hughes vanished briefly in the direction of the kitchen. "I don't like you. I don't _look_ anything like you."

"I'd not exactly thrilled to be constantly thought of as old enough to father a teenager either Fullmetal," Mustang snapped at him. "And while I can't answer for that librarian's dubious sanity, you can't deny that Selim Bradley's misunderstanding of the situation is entirely your fault."

"Yeah, well don't worry because I will _never_ see you that way," Ed said vehemently. "I mean, Hughes, yeah obviously," he blurted, "but definitely not you."

The sound of a plate crashing to the floor startled them and both alchemists turned around to see Hughes standing in the bedroom doorway with his mouth open. Then the Lieutenant Colonel disappeared down the hallway and the two alchemists heard a door slam.

"Oh s-shit!" Edward stammered. "I didn't mean- That is, I meant-"

Roy took a look at the panicked expression on Edward's face and sighed. "Relax Fullmetal, you haven't upset him. I suspect Hughes is going out so that he can have some privacy while he cries with happiness."

"Oh crap," Ed muttered in a small voice. "He's not going to start showing people pictures of me, is he?"

"Possibly," Roy teased, before adding, "he does care a great deal for you and Alphonse, Fullmetal."

As Ed blushed and began to clear up the plate that Hughes had dropped, Roy instantly took a deep interest in the opposite wall. Much to his irritation, he realised that Hughes had been right about one thing. Ed had always been a good looking boy. Most of the time he was loud or angry, so people didn't realise it until he was already gone. Now though, he was going to be around Roy twenty-four hours a day and, though Roy hated to admit it, with the addition of fur, cat ears and tail, Ed had gone from cute-looking to downright adorable. And now he was blushing, a slight dusting of red spreading across his face.

_Damn it Fullmetal!_ Roy thought. _Are you trying to kill me? Stop being so cute!_ But deep down inside him, a wistful voice said _Look at the kitty ears! I want to pet the cute kitty ears. _

Another voice, slightly less deep down said firmly, _you are the Flame Alchemist, man. Remember your dignity! And your reputation!_

_But the kitty ears!_ The first voice squealed.

_Well, they are kinda cute,_ the second voice admitted before it remembered itself and said, _No! Dignity! He's a subordinate_.

Luckily for Roy a distraction from Ed's sudden cuteness came in the form of a seven foot tall suit of armour with glowing red eyeholes. There was something odd about Alphonse today and for a second Roy couldn't put his finger on exactly what he thought it was. Then it hit him.

Alphonse's armoured expression could not change of course, but in some indefinable way, the lantern-jawed helm was radiating shy happiness.

"Uh, you okay Al?" Ed asked nervously.

"Yeah," Al said in a dazed tone. "Lt. Col. Hughes let me in." Then the pinpoints of light in his eyeholes seemed to brighten. "He seemed pretty happy about something. He hugged me and patted my shoulder," Al informed them happily, his echoey voice full of a child's joy at the simple gestures of affection. Roy smiled a little patronisingly at Al's overly delighted reaction for a moment before he realised that, besides his brother, the armoured boy could probably count all the people who'd hugged him on one hand.

Then Al shook himself out of his daze, clanking loudly. "Are you all right Brother?" he demanded. "What happened in the lab last night?"

Roy straightened up from his slouch. This was something he wanted to know about as well.

But Ed just waved a hand vaguely. "Nothing much," he shrugged.

"Brother," Al said insistently, "tell me."

Ed blew out a breath. "Really Al, it was nothing," he assured his brother. "Just basic doctor stuff. Took my temperature, measured the tail, took a sample of spit and, uh, samples of some other stuff," he finished awkwardly.

Roy frowned at the uncomfortable look on Ed's face and was about to demand a fuller explanation when Al beat him to it. "What other stuff?" he asked.

Ed did a rather accurate impression of a tomato. "_Stuff,_" he emphasised, gesturing oddly. "You know."

"Huh. . . _oh," _Al realised. "Oh. Sorry Brother." Roy was pretty sure that if he'd had a face, Al would be just as red as his older brother. To be honest, he felt a little embarrassed for Ed himself.

"'s okay," Ed replied easily. "Come on, let's get back to those books. I found one that I think might be useful before we had to leave."

"That, you can't do," Roy interrupted.

"What?" Ed demanded. "Why? Don't you _want _us to fix this?"

"Of course," Roy said smoothly, "but people know you're a chimera now, Fullmetal. Until you're back to normal it isn't safe for you to go wandering around the city."

"Then what the heck am I supposed to do?"

"_You_ will stay here and write down a list of the books you need," Roy ordered. "Alphonse will take it to the library and check them out for you."

"They're in the restricted section, genius," Ed retorted. "Only State Alchemists have access. They won't let him in if I'm not there."

"Which is why I'm also going to write a note of instructions with my seal and signature on it."

"Oh," Edward muttered, temporarily defeated. "In that case, can I get something to eat? I'm starved. The only things I've had today were the tea and biscuits the Fuhrer gave me and they weren't exactly what you'd call filling."

Roy frowned. "Fullmetal, when was the last time you had a proper meal?"

The teen shrugged. "I dunno. Breakfast before I reported in yesterday I think."

"Right," Roy ordered him, "write down that list and then come sit down in the kitchen. You can have lunch with me." He paused. "And try not to cough up anymore hairballs. "

"FOR THE LAST TIME COLONEL SHIT, IT WAS _NOT A HAIRBALL!_"


	3. Chapter 3

"Fullmetal, are you just going to stare at your food, or are you going to eat it? I thought you were hungry."

Edward lifted his gaze from the plate in front of him and bared his teeth at Roy. "Don't rush me Mustang," he snapped, waving his fork at the Colonel. "I'll eat when I'm good and ready. Besides, you're crazy if you think that I'll just eat something _you_ cooked without making sure it's safe first."

"Right," Roy muttered under his breath as he speared some salad with his own cutlery. "Because clearly, poisoning my subordinates is part of my everyday routine. Although, now that you mention it . . ."

"I knew it!" Ed declared, his now catlike ears having caught Roy's quiet sarcasm. "This stuff's probably toxic!"

Roy glared at him. "Fullmetal, I swear to you, that food is not poisoned. Now shut up and eat."

The boy glared, opened his mouth to swear back at the Colonel- and was promptly fed the forkful of salad. His eyes went wide with fury, but he chewed reflexively for a second. And then he blinked.

It was then that Roy discovered that the sight of Edward Elric eating enthusiastically was not for the faint hearted. Even for someone who hadn't eaten for a day, Ed was unusually ravenous, the Colonel noted, as he dodged some lettuce that was attempting to break out of the agricultural business and into interior decorating.

"Fullmetal, has anyone ever explained the concept of 'table manners' to you?" Roy asked once Edward had finished and the debris had settled.

"Huh?" Ed looked up at him and then back down at his empty plate in surprise. "It's all gone already? Where'd it go?"

"You ate it all."

"No I didn't."

"Yes, excepting the food now decorating the scenery, you did."

"Oh. I-" Ed paused, his ears flicking in agitation. "I just- felt hungry," he finished lamely.

"Clearly."

"No," Ed replied in a confused tone, "I mean _really_ h-" He stopped and glared again. "Ahh, why am I talking to you about it? Like you care."

"Wait," Roy ordered, suspicion kicking his brain into gear. "Do you mean that was unusual? You don't normally eat like that?"

Ed scowled. "Surprising as it may be to you, Colonel, I do know what table manners are. Maybe I eat more than most guys, but not- like that," he muttered, half to himself, a worried frown appearing on his face. "Maybe . . ."

"You think it's a side effect of the transmutation you underwent?"

Ed shrugged. "Could be, I guess. I was really exhausted afterwards. There's always a huge energy deficit from a biological transmutation."

"And I suppose missing all your meals since yesterday morning didn't help either," Roy mused as he began to clear away the plates.

"Oh gee, you think?"

###

In the two days following Edward's Fuhrer-enforced move into his spare room, it did not take long for Roy to discover that living with the Fullmetal Alchemist, temporary though it might be, was pure torture. In fact, it seemed to the Colonel that the entire situation had been tailor-made to drive him insane.

Not that Edward and Alphonse were especially bad houseguests. In fact, against all expectations, Edward was surprisingly respectful of Mustang's property. Furthermore, as he was currently completely engrossed in researching the process which had turned him into a chimera, he was also very quiet, spending hours trawling through various books with a rather frightening intensity. Periodically, he would enter the kitchen in search of food which would then be devoured as fast as possible, but otherwise he and his brother confined themselves to the smallish room which Mustang used as a library.

No, the problem, if it could be called that, was that Ed was now the most adorable looking thing that Roy had ever seen. And Roy Mustang unfortunately had a carefully hidden love of cute things. Every time he saw Ed now, the Colonel had to pause and restrain himself from cooing at the young man or scratching him under the chin.

Such was the case the second afternoon after the Elric brothers had relocated to Roy's house. Roy had been ordered to stay within twenty feet of Ed at all times, but the boy had been deeply immersed in his research when Roy had discovered that living with a teenager meant that he was running out of food thrice as fast. So he'd decided to risk leaving Al to guard Ed while he made a quick trip to the shop.

When he'd got back, the Colonel had found Al in the kitchen and the armoured boy had readily volunteered to put away groceries while the dark-haired man went to check on his brother, who was still working in the library. Roy entered the room to find that the boy had _been_ working, the pile of open books and scattered ink blotted pages were a testament to that. But he was asleep now, curled up on the couch, his ears twitching lazily, a soft sound that was half-purr half-snore issuing from his mouth

Roy squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying to focus on something else, anything else. But it was no good. His gaze kept flicking back to the curled up form of Ed on the couch. He was just. So. Damn. Cute.

The silence of the room, only broken by Ed's soft purring, was turning oppressive. Roy stopped fighting his mental battle and gave in. Ed was asleep anyway, he rationalised, the kid would never notice. So he approached the couch and stretched out his hand slowly, hardly daring to breathe. If Ed woke, he would react badly, and Roy had already had enough claw inflicted scratches on his face for one week, thank you. Then, just as the tips of his fingers were about brush against that furry little ear, a voice behind him said "Colonel?"

The Flame Alchemist, war hero, youngest Colonel in the Amestrian army and second youngest person ever to qualify as a State Alchemist _did not _let out a girlish shriek of surprise. He also _did not_ jump nearly a foot into the air, whatever any office gossips (who should get back to work right this instant before their superior decides to incinerate them instead of his paperwork) might say. He would admit to having experienced a mild heart attack, though.

Ed woke up (not because of the shriek, because Roy definitely hadn't shrieked and would charbroil anyone who suggested otherwise,) and looked fuzzily past the Colonel.

"'Tenant Hawkeye?" he yawned, rubbing the sleep out of the corner of his eyes. "What're you doin' here?"

"Delivering paperwork," the lieutenant answered briskly. "Since the Colonel has confined you to his house and the Fuhrer confined him to within twenty feet of you, it has been building up back at the office. I felt it would be best to have daily deliveries so that the Colonel can keep occupied while you and Al are doing your research."

Mustang sighed inwardly. He should have known Hawkeye would find a way around his iron clad excuse not to come into work. "Thank you Lieutenant, you can leave it on the kitchen table."

He shot a brief scowl at Ed, who was know smirking at his obvious paperwork related pain. "Don't you have work to do, Furmetal?" he snapped as the sound of Hawkeye's steps retreated towards the kitchen.

And how the hell had she come in the front door without him hearing her, Roy wondered, as Ed growled at him and began to rant. He was pretty sure that First Lieutenants weren't supposed to sneak up on their Colonels and give them heart attacks and paper work. That should be in the regulations somewhere. Definitely something to consider when he became Fuhrer.

###

That night, Roy woke to the sound of an alchemic alarm of his own design going off. He grabbed his gloves, the gun he kept in the bedside cabinet, and rushed down the hall, followed shortly by the Elric siblings.

The unfortunate intruder, (who had thought his skills were up to handling two kids and one admittedly full grown alchemist provided he had the element of surprise), having been lightly cooked when the ground underneath him burst spontaneously into flame, was then confronted by what seemed to be an insanely furious pyromaniac, a seven-foot-tall suit of armour with glowing eyes and a cat-eared midget with a knife growing out of his arm.

"Aaargh!"

###

Major General Hakuro was not having a good day, made worse by the fact that it had, originally, been a good week. He had captured a dangerous chimera and in doing so had finally been able to pay back that little brat Elric for the incident on the train. Not that he was averse to being rescued from terrorists, but to be rescued by a child? Utterly humiliating. He knew that young upstart Mustang had done that on purpose to embarrass him. The mighty Flame Alchemist could have dealt with things himself, but no, he'd sent a child to attack the terrorists. Those terrorists had taken a General hostage and Mustang had sent a child to take them down.

The fact that the blasted brat had succeeded so completely just made the whole thing ten times worse.

Sending Elric to the East Laboratory had been extremely satisfying, and as a bonus it had allowed him to pay back both the little brat and Mustang for embarrassing him. But then he'd made the unfortunate mistake of talking about it a little too much at that party and the Fuhrer's wife (who was a wonderful woman, he had nothing but good things to say about her, oh yes) had disagreed with him on the handling of his prisoner. Loudly. And publicly.

Hakuro snorted. Traumatised child indeed! Elric was practically an animal, even before his unfortunate transformation. The whole of East was aware of his complete lack of discipline and the disrespect he showed to his superior officer. Why Mustang went out of his way to protect the brat, the General couldn't even begin to fathom.

Hakuro frowned for a moment, recalling the look on Mustang's face when he had arrested the man's youngest subordinate. Not that the Flame's expressions usually gave anything away, but just for a moment, there had been something . . .

His irritation momentarily forgotten, Hakuro wondered if maybe the rumours about Mustang he'd been hearing lately were true, before a sneeze from his visitor brought him back to the matter at hand.

The man currently standing in front of the general's desk and sniffling was rather distinctive. He smelled of smoke, his clothing sported smouldering patches and tears and he no longer had any eyebrows. He was also breathing very gingerly, as if someone with, say, an automail arm, had punched him in the ribs.

"Well," Hakuro snapped at him, "report. What happened?"

"Ahem, sir," the unfortunate man began, coughing a little, "the Colonel gave me this, to give to my employer." He handed the General an envelope sealed with red wax, with a stylised flame pressed into it.

Hakuro opened the envelope curiously and pulled out a sheet of paper with a short message written on it. He took his glasses from his pocket and squinted at the elegant cursive.

To Whom It May Concern, _(the message read)_

I present my compliments to you and request that you not send any more men after the Fullmetal Alchemist. Though he may be an annoying brat with a height complex, he's still my subordinate and as such, I am responsible for his well being. Your employee was allowed to return to you relatively unharmed. If you send another, all you'll get back is a sad little pile of ashes in an urn. And then I'll come looking for you to give you a personal demonstration of my alchemical expertise, you son of a bitch.

Yours sincerely,

Colonel Roy Mustang (Flame Alchemist)

P.S. Up yours asshole! – E &amp; A Elric.

Within seconds of the General reading it, the small letter began to smoke and crumble in on itself. Soon it was nothing more than a pile of ash.

General Hakuro's face, usually somewhat pale, rapidly began turning a rather alarming shade of purple. "General?" the luckless messenger asked as Hakuro swept his hand across his desk, sending the ashes flying.

"You are dismissed," the General said through gritted teeth. "And if you dare breathe a word of this to anyone, you'll find yourself floating face down in East River. Is that clear?"

"Sir, yes sir!" the unfortunate soldier exclaimed, before turning on his heel and half-running from the room.

###

Sometime later that day, a plasterer had to be sent for. Someone had damaged the Major General's wall by punching it.


End file.
